The 13th Seat
by Makaan
Summary: Zōkin Kamimono, 13th seat of squad 13, has been stuck in hell for 100 years due to an unlucky series of events. This story begins just after Aizen's fall.
1. Chapter 1: return from hell

Zōkin Kamimono, 13th seat of squad 13, stared blearily at the creature above him. It was a huge, hulking, horrifying creature, standing gorilla-like on all fours, with an elongated skull for a head, an exposed rib age and spine and bone armour on its right shoulder. He sighed. The Kushanāda sure could be annoying. His extended assignment to hell had gone on longer than anticipated, and the talisman the 12th captain had given him to keep him hidden from its denizens had run out of charge decades ago. He stood and shrugged off the brown greatcoat he wore over his Shihakushō, tipped his black fedora to a more comfortable position, and drew his Zanpakutō which was belted to his left hip, holding it loosely in his right hand.

"Would you mind moving along?" Zōkin asked without much hope, "I saw some tasty looking souls over there." He jerked his thumb over to the left. The Kushanāda lunged. Zōkin sighed again, and raised his Zanpakutō, drawing a circle in the air with it. "Grant them eternal rest, Tsuki no Kage!" He intoned. The blade slimmed and lengthened, creating a more pronounced point, while the silver cross guard extended into a half-loop over the hilt. A moon- shaped pendant materialised chained to the pommel. Leaping up and away from the massive hand which descended on where he was sitting, he extended the index finger of his left hand towards the beast. "Carriage of thunder, bridge of a spinning wheel. With light, divide this into six! Bakudō #61, Rikujōkōrō!" Six rectangles of glowing yellow light materialised and trapped one of the joints in the Kushanāda's spine, temporarily paralysing it. Zōkin landed on its forehead, slashed twice in an X-shape and then drove the blade deep into the bone. As the Kushanāda roared, he grabbed his right wrist with his left hand and began to incant: "The lord! Mask of flesh and bone, flutter of wings, ye who bears the name of Man! Truth and temperance, upon this sinless wall of dreams unleash but slightly the wrath of your claws!" The unbalanced Kushanāda began to right itself, the Kidō seal flaking away. Zōkin hung on the the sword. "Hadō #33, Sōkatsui!" He finished. Blue energy pulsed down the blade and exploded within the Kushanāda's skull, shattering it. Zōkin jumped from the crumbling creature and sheathed his resealed Zanpakutō. Picking up his overcoat, he looked around for somewhere to hide. He had been lucky when facing that Kushanāda in that it had not been able to immediately shatter the bakudo, because its balance had been too poor to recover quickly enough. He didn't rate his chances against more than one of them. As always, the world of grey floating cuboids failed to make him any happier, nor did the quiet moans of the condemned. As his gaze turned to one of the many blue paths which interconnected throughout this level of hell, he suddenly noticed the strange spiritual pressures which were quite distant but heading his way. Three of them felt like soul reapers, two of which were clearly captain-level. Then there was an odd one which felt human enough, but was as strong as a lieutenant. Finally, there was Kokuto, an odd young sinner he had met and sparred with occasionally. He was about to call out to them when one of the spirit pressures went through a transformation, growing darker and stronger in an instant, so strong that it made Zōkin dizzy. A black beam of energy exploded just in front of him, rubble and bits of Kushanāda falling around it. He turned to dive away when a block of rubble caught him in the temple and knocked him out cold.

He was woken by a rumbling and an intense spiritual pressure coming from somewhere below him. It felt like that of a hollow, and was stronger than any he had ever felt even when he was in the presence of Head Captain Yamamoto. Crawling to the edge of the block he looked down, and what he saw drained all the blood from his face. Fire was roiling up from below, consuming and destroying everything it touched. It had already blasted itself through the sea and flower graveyard, and was heading upwards. He ran. He knew he wouldn't make it, but he hoped that if he got far enough away he could withstand the blast. He jumped through the air, getting higher and higher, and pushed the guard of his Zanpakutō with his thumb. Unsheathing it and rotating it so he held it upright in his left hand, he released it into its Shikai state. Ahead of him he could see the gates of hell, and instinctively headed for them. Below him the flames broke through the block world, the grey blocks turning red as they collapsed. He turned. There was nowhere further to run. As the flames rushed to meet him, he began to spin the blade, and as the pendant began to give off a silvery light he shouted a command. "Mangetsu no Tate!" A shield of pale energy surrounded him as the flames hit home. It held for a few moments and then began to collapse, despite Zōkin pouring all of his spirit pressure into it. Behind him the gates shattered with a great crash and a tongue of fire poured out into the human world. The shield finally broke and Zōkin was flung away, landing on a platform below the broken gate. The flames began to die down. Getting painfully to his feet, Zōkin patted out the little bits of flame which clung to his overcoat and Shihakushō. All he could smell was his own burnt nose hairs, the bursting shield had temporarily deafened him, and from the looks of it he had lost his eyelashes as well. He raised one hand to his hat and touched hair, some of which crumbled under his touch. That wasn't good. Kyouraku and the others in the Soul Reapers' hat-wearing society would laugh at him. He looked down to see if it had fallen by his feet, and stopped. He stared at his sword. The blade was broken halfway along its length. Thanking it deeply, he returned it to his scabbard and looked up. He could see the evening sky through the broken gate. Slowly, painfully, he climbed towards it and looked out. A familiar voice called out to him.

"You there! Identify yourself!" A handsome, white-haired soul reaper wearing a captain's Haori over his Shihakushō was accosting him.

"Captain Ukitake?" Zōkin responded hoarsely.

"Is that 13th seat Kamimono? What the hell is going on in there?" Despite everything, Zōkin smiled.

"Is that the best you could come up with?" He asked.

"To be honest, we assumed you had died almost 85 years ago when your hell pass stopped transmitting." Ukitake said. Zōkin had been kept under guard while Ukitake had gone to a captains' meeting and dealt with the commotion when some guy apparently appeared holding a dying child. And so Zōkin had waited until almost sunset before Ukitake had come to debrief him.

"Oh yeah, a Kushanāda ate it." Zōkin replied, embarrassed. "I couldn't get back because without the pass I couldn't go through the gates without the Kushanāda attacking me." Ukitake stared at him for a moment.

"You really are unlucky aren't you?" He said with a faint smile.

"I was assigned to hell wasn't I?" Zōkin replied, returning the smile. Ukitake stood.

"It is my turn to guard the hell gate." He said. "I'll have a senkaimon opened for your return to the soul society."

"I'll report to lieutenant Shiba when I get there," Zōkin replied, standing and bowing. "I look forward to seeing everyone." A shadow of grief passed across Ukitake's face and he turned away.

"Kaen passed away not long ago." He whispered.

"I'm sorry to hear that sir." He said, inwardly shocked. Kaen Shiba had always seemed immortal, a permanent fixture in the 13th squad. He had only recently been promoted when Zōkin had started his surveillance assignment in hell.

When he passed through the senkaimon and arrived in the soul society, he was surprised to hear someone call his name. It was the captain of the 8th squad, Shunsui Kyouraku, wearing a flat conical hat and a pink flowery kimono. Next to him was a man with medium length blonde hair wearing a red pullover, and following them was a black-haired young woman with glasses holding a large book.

"Hello captain Kyouraku, Captain Hirako, Lieutenant Yadōmaru." Zōkin said. Shunsui smiled drunkenly, Shinji looked at him oddly and the lieutenant jumped slightly and blushed.

"You are mistaken." Shunsui said before the lieutenant could explode. "This is lieutenant Nanao Ise."

"My apologies lieutenant." Zōkin said hurriedly. The news seemed to get worse and worse. First Kaen, then Lisa? He turned to Shinji. "Please tell me lieutenant Aizen is well, captain Hirako. I would like to hear some good news." The temperature seemed to drop several degrees. Everyone stared at him.

"No-one has told you?" Shunsui asked hesitantly.

"Told me what?" Zōkin replied, with a sense of foreboding.

"Where have you been for the last hundred years? In a cave?" Shinji said scoldingly. Before Zōkin could respond, he turned to Shunsui. "I'll be heading back to the world of the living now, and I'll be back for further negotiations in a couple of weeks. It looks like you'll have your hands full." With that, Shinji turned and headed for the Senkaimon.

"Well, I guess I'll fill you in." Shunsui said to Zōkin, while waving goodbye to Shinji. "Although you may need a stiff drink. By the way, what happened to your hat?"

Zōkin Kamimono was drunk. Very drunk. The news about Aizen's rebellion had seemed like one impossible, insane thing after another. After Shunsui had finished the story, and had been dragged away by Nanao, Zōkin had staggered off in search of more booze. He had found it along with lieutenants Izuru Kira of squad 3, Tetsuzaemon Iba of squad 7 and Rangiku Matsumoto of squad 10. The 3rd seat of squad 11, Ikkaku Madarame, had joined them momentarily but had left to train. The conversation was only slightly more intelligent than one might expect.

"So this subsist-stubbist-Substib-" Zōkin began, then gave up. "This guy who beat Aizen. What is he like?"

"Wha?" Said Izuru, his face on the table.

"He's strong." Said Tetsuzaemon, who wasn't as drunk as the rest of them.

"Cute." Said Rangiku.

"That is what you say about all the boys!" Tetsuzaemon scolded her.

"Except you." She retaliated. For Zōkin, the rest of the night was a blur. He eventually awoke in the squad 13 barracks with a terrible hangover, a nasty taste in his mouth and a teacosy on his head. Sitting up and removing the teacosy, he noticed the petite young red-haired girl standing in the doorway,

"Can I help you, miss?" He asked.

"Miss?" She retorted. "I'm 3rd seat Kotetsu of squad 13!"

"Apologies ma'am." Zōkin corrected hurriedly, standing and bowing.

"Never mind that," she said, "go get yourself freshened up before the captain gets back! He wants to talk to you." Excusing himself, Zōkin headed for the shower blocks. The feeling of hot water running over him, a sensation he had forgotten after a century in hell, felt heavenly. Afterwards he shaved, having grown quite a bushy beard, brushed his teeth and picked his Shihakushō up from the cleaners. In the end he was only five minutes late for the meeting.

"I sincerely apologise for my tardiness." Zōkin began.

"Don't worry about it," Ukitake responded. 3rd seat Kotetsu was sat behind him holding an ice pack, while next to her was a black- haired man with a small beard who would occasionally try to steal said ice pack. "I understand Shunsui told you about Aizen." Ukitake continued, either ignoring or oblivious to the small war going on behind him. "That can't have been easy news to hear. I understand you were friends."

"We'd occasionally meet up to play cards or chess, but I wouldn't say we were friends." Zōkin responded. "To be honest I still haven't quite taken it all in. I remember that creepy Gin kid, and never did particularly trust him, but Aizen and Kaname? I can't get my head round it." Ukitake nodded sympathetically.

"It was a shock, you can be sure. I'm just glad it is over. Anyway, enough about that, tell me how you have been. What did you do while in hell?" Zōkin shifted uncomfortably.

"I've been training, mostly, to pass the time. Although without another soul reaper to train me, I have been unable to improve my Kidō skills very much - I am still unable to use many of the spells, and chant discard is still beyond me."

"And Zanpakutō training?" Ukitake pressed, sensing that Zōkin was holding something back.

"I've achieved Bankai." Zōkin confessed simply. The two behind Ukitake stopped fighting and stared, while even the captain seemed taken aback.

"That is certainly impressive." He said.

"It took me over eighty years to achieve it, and I still don't have complete control." Zōkin elaborated, slightly embarrassed.

"In that case I will help you master it." Ukitake said kindly. "But first, we have work to do. You will assist third seats Kotetsu and Kotsubaki with the ongoing cleansing process within the Tenkaiketchu zone." Ukitake turned to the pair. "Show him the way." As they were heading out, Zōkin paused in the doorway.

"One last thing, sir." He said.

"Yes?"

"Was I not replaced as 13th seat in all this time? If so, what is my new position?"

"I'm afraid he died recently. We had an incident with materialised Zanpakutō, and there were many casualties. The Seireitei is still recovering."

"I see, sir."

A week later, as Zōkin made his way through the precipice world back to the Seireitei, a man who would soon deal immense damage to the soul society watched him on a view screen.

"What about this one, sir?" A female voice said.

"What is his rank?" The man questioned.

"13th seat, I believe."

"Too weak. There is no point in wasting our time on such a weakling."

"As you say, master Inaba."


	2. Chapter 2: Weakling

Chapter 2: weakling

A door slammed open. Zōkin, who had been leaning against the wall beside it, rubbed his bruised nose and then snapped to attention when captain Ukitake strode into the room. He was furious, angrier than Zōkin had ever seen him.  
"Complete imbeciles!" He was ranting. "What are they thinking? Why would they do something so stupid?"  
"What happened sir?" Zōkin asked. Ukitake spun round and stared at him for a moment before continuing.  
"They arrested Shunsui! That damned central 46!"  
"The arrested captain Kyouraku? Is this connected to that business with the substitute soul reaper and the precipice world?"  
"I think so. Whoever framed Ichigo seems to be trying to stop Shunsui and I finding out what really happened. I'm going to get Shunsui and then go to master Genryusai to see what we can do."  
"I'll accompany you sir." Zōkin said. Ukitake looked at him, considering, then nodded.  
"Thank you. Let's go!" They headed out at a brisk pace, Ukitake leading. He was muttering as he walked, trying to puzzle out what was going on. When they reached the prison block, Ukitake turned to Zōkin.  
"Stay here and keep watch." He ordered. Zōkin saluted and took up a guard position. Not much time had passed before he noticed someone approaching.  
"Who goes there?" He accosted. As the figure drew closer, Zōkin's confusion grew. "Captain Ukitake? I thought you were inside! What are you doing out-" the blade seemed to come from nowhere. Ukitake ran Zōkin through, front to back, then withdrew the blade as Zōkin began to fall.  
"I am sorry Zōkin. Blame my original for dragging you into this." The imposter said as he stepped through the door. Bleeding, Zōkin felt himself blacking out, and forced himself awake through sheer will. The captains were in danger. Holding his wound with his left hand, he drew his sword.  
"Grant them eternal rest, Tsuki no Kage!" He said, releasing his Zanpakutō. He heard footsteps. Shunsui and Ukitake stepped out of the building and faced him. Blue light crackled around their eyes as they looked at the wounded man confronting them.  
"I thought you had killed him?" Shunsui said.  
"So did I. I guess he is tougher than he looks." Said Ukitake, who then suddenly slashed for Zōkin's neck. He parried, and sent a riposte back with eye-blurring speed towards Ukitake's eye. Shunsui intercepted with one of his blades, and then began a barrage of attacks that Zōkin barely avoided with dodges and parries.  
"At this rate we will be late for old man Yama." Shunsui complained.  
"Leave this weakling to me and hurry up with your assignment." A new voice said. A man with half-green and half-yellow hair wearing a large yellow robe and dark hood, wielding a double-ended glaive stepped out of the shadows to Zōkin's right. Zōkin changed his stance so that he could keep his eye on all three of them. Ukitake and Shunsui sheathed their swords.  
"Be careful, Inaba." Ukitake said. "He may not look like much but his Bankai is quite dangerous." Then, Ukitake and Shunsui vanished, flash-stepping away.

"Oh?" Inaba said. "A 13th seat with a Bankai? Maybe I should have made a reigai of you after all. No matter." He rotated his glaive, and dissappeared. Zōkin looked around hurriedly, and then felt a sharp pain in his right bicep. He looked down. His right arm had been cut off. Blood gushed out of his stump. The pain was immense, but Zōkin managed to push through it and placed his left hand by the stump, and began to recite through gritted teeth.  
"Ye lord! Mask of blood and flesh, all creation, flutter of wings, ye who bears the name of Man!" A red glow began to surround his hand, an orb of fire materialising in his palm. The air filled with the sound of sizzling and the smell of burnt flesh.  
"Impressive." Said Inaba, who was standing several metres behind Zōkin. The agony was almost unbearable, but Zōkin continued. "Inferno and pandemonium, the sea barrier surges, march on to the south! Hadō #31, Shakkahō!" Spinning, he flung the orb at Inaba who simply stretched out his hand and caught it, crushing it in his grip. He looked at the flames fading around his fingers.  
"So, you used a Shakkahō to cauterise your wound." He said. "You have impressive will, but how do you plan to fight me without your sword arm?" In answer, Zōkin bent down and took his sword from his severed arm. Pale from blood loss and shaking with pain, he nevertheless put himself in a guard position, left foot out ahead, right foot pointing to the right, sword held diagonally upwards in his left hand. "Ah, does this mean you are ambidextrous?" Zōkin smiled slightly in response.  
"No." He said, and raised the sword. "I'm left handed." He swung vertically downwards. "Hantsuki Surasshu!" A thin black line, no wider than a hair, was emitted from the slash in a straight line towards Inaba, leaving a hairline crack in the ground. Inaba dived to the right to avoid it. Zōkin smiled. "Wrong way." He said. The shockwave hit Inaba as he was trying to dodge, and blew him backwards. He lost consciousness for a second, then recovered and landed on his feet. Blood dripped from cuts on his arms and forehead, and there were tears in his robe. He glared at Zōkin.  
"I see." He said. "Half-moon slash, is it? So the line is the separator of light and shadow, and if I dodge into the light side I am unharmed but if I dodge into the shadow I am hit. I assume you are able to change which side is light and which side is shadow for each attack, but not after they are released?"  
"How astute." Zōkin responded. He raised his sword again, and this time brought it down in a curved arc by turning his wrist. "Totsu tsuki katto!" This time the beam was thick and crescent-shaped, and Zōkin kept swinging sending numerous attacks at Inaba. Inaba shattered each one with his glaive, and as the last one vanished he saw Zōkin make a horizontal slash and disappear. Inaba found himself trapped in a waist-high layer of blackness which surrounded him for several metres in a not-quite circular shape. Appearing behind Inaba, Zōkin reversed his sword and began to sheathe it. "Tsuki wa horu kuresento." He said. Struggling desperately, Inaba managed to fall backwards out under the layer of blackness, just as Zōkin finished sheathing his sword and a leaf, falling from the tree next to the prison block, began to pass through the layer. The blackness vanished, and the leaf was left in two sections, neatly cut. Inaba rolled back onto his feet in time to meet Zōkin's next attack. He had already redrawn his sword, and made a small circle in the air with it. The circle darkened to black, and Zōkin thrust through the centre. "Shingetsu ranji." The circle folded around the point of the blade, and formed a narrow beam of darkness which shot towards Inaba. Who smiled, and rotated his glaive to the left. A hole in reality opened, and the beam vanished into it. Zōkin, out of breath from attacking, staggered back in shock, and coughed blood onto the floor. Inaba's smile turned into a grin, as he rotated his glaive to the right. The hole reopened, and from it emerged the beam. Zōkin dodged it by flash stepping to the side, and was just rallying when the second shot took his right ear clean off. Inaba kept turning the glaive to the right, and beams kept firing out of the hole. The third and fourth shots missed, but the fifth clipped Zōkin's shoulder and the sixth hit him in the gut, leaving a small, perfectly spherical hole just below and to the right of his navel. Zōkin fell to his knees, gasping. Inaba laughed.  
"Well, you were interesting, but I have no time to waste on you, weakling. Ukitake and Kyouraku will soon begin the battle against the head captain, and I have places to be. If you could please just die..." Inaba's voice trailed off as Zōkin got back to his feet and raised his sword to the sky.  
"So you also can manipulate space." Zōkin wheezed. "How interesting."  
"Also?" Queried Inaba.  
"Bankai!" Zōkin yelled. Energy began to flow out of him, and all the shadows in the vicinity seemed to be buffeted away from him by some invisible wind. A dark beam shot from the night sky and enveloped Zōkin in a black tornado of power. When it vanished, Zōkin was left holding a large khopesh, a sickle-sword, about as tall as himself, made from some dark gold which seemed to absorb rather than reflect light. A pendant dangled from the hilt - it looked like a marble, amethyst maybe, with something sparkling inside. "Ginga no Ankoku." Zōkin named it.

"I must say, I've seen more impressive Bankai." Inaba complained. "Yours just doesn't compare to Kurotsuchi's or Komamura's. Even the substitute soul reaper has a more impressive Bankai than yours. All you have is a big sword, and only one arm to wield it with."  
"Kūkan no sakeme, Shūryō suru." Zōkin said, and swung. Nothing happened. Inaba started to laugh again. "Kūkan no sakeme, Irikuchi." Zōkin said next, raising the sword again.  
"How pathetic." Inaba began, and Zōkin brought the blade down. This time, something did happen. As the blade reached a certain point it began to disappear, as if it were passing behind a barrier. Then, the vanished part emerged from the air in front of Inaba and dug deep into his shoulder. Blood spurted. Zōkin withdrew the sword, and Inaba lunged at where the sword had come out of, to no effect. "I see." Inaba gasped. "You create an 'exit' and an 'entrance' and whatever goes in the 'entrance' comes out of the 'exit'. Is is not a two way door. However," Inaba began to waver, like a heat haze, and then vanished altogether. "It will not be enough to stop me." The glaive pierced the tendons in Zōkin's right leg. Zōkin screamed in pain and fell to one knee. Inaba was behind him, preparing to finish him off. Zōkin spun round, despite the pain in his leg, and swung for Inaba's legs.  
"Kūkan no sakeme, Shūryō suru." He breathed painfully. Inaba dodged the blow easily and cut the Achilles' tendon in his left leg from behind. Zōkin collapsed, only staying on his knees by holding on to his sword.  
"Goodbye, weakling." Inaba crooned, and swung for Zōkin's head. Zōkin swayed to the side and forward, so that instead of splitting his skull the blade left a deep furrow in his back. Inaba re-aimed to stab, when he was interrupted by a woman's voice.  
"Master Inaba. You are late. Ukitake and Kyouraku are about to start their fight and we have yet to deal with my original." Zōkin couldn't see who it was, but recognised the voice.  
"You are right, captain Unohana. Heal me and then we will go." Inaba replied, and turned back to finish Zōkin off.  
"Kūkan no sakeme, Irikuchi." Inaba was just in time to see Zōkin vanish into the floor. Zōkin fell into the spacial rift, and lost consciousness at last.

When he eventually came to, there was a young black- haired soul reaper crouching over him. Zōkin sat up suddenly, so suddenly that the young man let out a high-pitched scream and fell over backwards.  
"I'm alive." Zōkin breathed, feeling the closed hole in his gut, the healed scar on his back and legs, and the stump that was his right arm. He stared at it, then looked over at the young soul reaper who was whimpering on the floor.  
"Thank you, you saved my life." Zōkin said with heartfelt gratitude. "You are from squad 4, aren't you? What is your name?"  
"H-h-h-hanataro Yamada, s-s-seventh seat of squad 4." The boy stammered. "You fell out of the air all covered in blood while I was cleaning down here. That was a few days ago."  
"Days?!" Zōkin replied in shock, and Hanataro - who was just getting back onto his feet - fell down again. "What happened to Captain Ukitake? And the head captain? He's in danger from the impostors!"  
"The Seireitei is a mess." Hanataro replied. "Huge areas of it have just been turned to rubble, and these wierd clones of the captains with blue eyes have taken over! A few people like lieutenants Hinamori and Podufid, as well as the 3rd seats from squad 13 and some others, have managed to make it down here - they were being hunted!"  
"What about Captain Ukitake?"  
"I'm sorry, I don't know."  
"The only captains whose whereabouts we vaguely know are the head captain and captain Unohana." A new voice said. Turning, Zōkin saw that it was the grey-haired lieutenant of squad 1, Chōjirō Sasakibe. Hurriedly he stood and saluted. Then, after a moment, he saluted with the arm he actually had.  
"Lieutenant Sasakibe, my deepest apologies. I was unable to stop the impostors from reaching the head captain, and then I lost against their leader."  
"There was nothing you could do. Anyway, the head captain is safe, as far as we know. He was injured but he and captain Unohana managed to escape to the world of the living-wait where are you going?" Zōkin was staggering towards the nearest ladder.  
"I have to find captain Ukitake!" Zōkin replied. Just then the hatch above them opened and Yoruichi Shihoin dropped down.  
"Lady Shihoin!" Lieutenant Sasakibe said in surprise, at the same time as Zōkin's exclamation of "captain Shihoin!" She looked at the two of them in amusement.  
"It's been a while since anyone called me 'captain'" she said, then her face turned serious. "Chōjirō, I have news. The captains are alive, and have been preparing for a counterattack at Kukaku's house. That time is now. Kisuke and Ichigo are probably here already, so I'll be heading to the department of research and development with the captains to meet up with them. Meanwhile, I need you to attempt to retake the Senkaimon, so that the lieutenants and Ichigo's friends can get through safely. It shouldn't be too heavily guarded, as most of the reigai should be drawn away by our fight."  
"Understood, lady Shihoin." Chōjirō said.

Zōkin and Chōjirō set off together for the Senkaimon. Lieutenant Hinamori had stayed behind due to her injuries from the Aizen incident, and was being cared for by those members of squad 4 who had found their way to them. Zōkin had to admit, that Hanataro's skills were impressive. Just a few days ago he had been on the edge of death and now he barely felt any pain. They were nearing the bridge to the Senkaimon when Zōkin felt it - an incredible concentration of spiritual pressure over towards the squad 12 barracks. He recognised some of them. Two of them felt like Ukitake.  
"My captain!" Zōkin shouted, and turned to head towards the squad 12 barracks. A hand closed on his shoulder.  
"What do you think you are doing?" Chōjirō said, his grip hard as iron.  
"I've got to help my captain!" Zōkin replied. "He's surrounded by those fakes and they all feel so much more powerful than they did!"  
"You young fool." Chōjirō said. "We were given a task to accomplish, and if you want to help your captain the best thing to do would be to complete it!" Angry and ashamed, Zōkin nodded.  
"My my, why are you making so much noise?" Said a high, rasping voice. "It is quite distracting." The wall near the two seemed to shift, dissolve, and a man wearing a captain's Haori, with white black-striped skin and a purple headdress seemed to materialise out of the stone.  
"Who is this freak?" Zōkin asked before he could help himself.  
"Captain Kurotsuchi!" Chōjirō said, not so much in answer to the question as out of surprise. Two more figures then flash-stepped into the street - lieutenants Hinamori and Kotetsu. The older sister of 13th squad's 3rd seat was tall and slender with pinkish hair. All three of the new arrivals had blue glowing eyes. "Reigai!" Chōjirō accused.  
"What was your first clue?" Zōkin replied, drawing his sword backhand and then rotating it. "Grant them eternal rest, Tsuki no Kage!"  
"Pierce, Gonryoumaru." Chōjirō followed, and his Zanpakutō became a rapier with a wide bowl guard.  
"Run , Itegumo!" Said Kotetsu, her blade splitting into three.  
"Claw out, Ashisogijiso!" Said Kurotsuchi, and the blade transformed into an almost trident-like golden weapon, with a massive crosspiece in the shape of a baby's face.  
"Snap, Tobiume!" Hinamori was the last to release her Zanpakutō, bars growing out of the blade as it straightened.

"13th seat Kamimono, try to distract the lieutenants while I deal with the captain." Chōjirō began, but was then forced to defend himself as the lieutenants attacked. Fireballs spat from Hinamori's Tobiume, and Kitetsu swung for Chōjirō's leg.  
"Lieutenant!" Zōkin shouted, and moved to assist but was blocked by Kurotsuchi who lunged at him. Zōkin turned the blade aside and leapt backwards to give himself more room. "I remember you know." He said. "You're that creep who was working for Captain Urahara!" I can't let his blade touch me, he thought to himself. It's a paralytic. Zōkin had lost sight of Chōjirō's battle, but could still sense his spiritual pressure. Kurotsuchi flash stepped behind him and slashed for his back. Turning, Zōkin drew a circle in the air. "Mangetsu no Tate." A white shield enveloped him, and Kurotsuchi's blow rebounded. Zōkin lunged, but Kurotsuchi recovered fast and blocked the blow. The two traded blows in midair, and Zōkin's swordsmanship seemed to be gaining the upper hand when Kurotsuchi produced something red fleshy from his robe and threw it at him. He cut it instinctively, and it exploded. He was hurled backwards but managed to regain his balance in time to block Kurotsuchi's next attack. Pushing Kurotsuchi back, he retaliated. "Totsu tsuki katto!" The crescent of dark energy hit Kurotsuchi's right knee, leaving a deep cut, and the one which followed cut straight through.  
"Damn you, you bastard!" Kurotsuchi screamed as he fell. He hit the ground in a puff of dust. As the dust cleared, Zōkin saw him pull a short syringe out of his robe and stab it into his thigh. To Zōkin's shock and disgust, the leg quickly regrew with the sickening meaty noise of snapping bone and stretching skin.  
"I guess beating you won't be so easy." Zōkin said, and raised his sword. "Bankai!" A hole broke through the blue sky above revealing the dark of space and the glint of distant stars, as if night had fallen in that one place. A dark pillar of energy shot down from it and engulfed Zōkin, revealing the great sickle-sword as it vanished.  
"My my, is it going to be like that?" Kurotsuchi said. "Bankai." Purple-blue mist oozed out of his Zanpakutō, roiling, growing and curling as a monster materialised. It was a hideous giant with the head of an infant and the body of a caterpillar, with a red cloak and a halo. Poison gas steamed from its mouth with each breath. "Konjiki Ashisogijiso! Attack!" He directed. A forest of blades sprouted under the thing's chin and it charged forward, dragging its huge body with considerable speed, wailing like a newborn as it did.  
"Kūkan no sakeme Shūryō suru. Kūkan no sakeme Irikuchi!" After two quick slashes, the monster's charge was redirected as it disappeared into the rift, emerging above Kurotsuchi who swore and dodged. The blades stuck into the ground, and it flailed around frantically in an effort to right itself, crushing buildings on both sides of the street. Poison gas spewed everywhere. Zōkin darted in and swung towards Kurotsuchi, who parried and grabbed him by the throat. He attempted to slam Zōkin to the ground, but Zōkin used the momentum to kick him in the chin and backflip away, skidding on the cobbles. Kurotsuchi lunged, Zōkin dodged back then ducked as a spray of poison squirted above him. Konjiki Ashisogijiso, having righted itself, charged him again. Flash stepping away and swinging, he had to dodge again as Kurotsuchi attacked. He stopped the blade, bud was hit by another flesh bomb which slammed him hard into the ground, where he was engulfed by the poison. Kurotsuchi was laughing.  
"Die of this poison, you weakling! You aren't even remotely worth experimenting on!" He stopped laughing when he heard the noise coming from the cloud. A low chuckle, interrupted by coughs.  
"Better watch where you stand." Zōkin said, then gave two great swings of his sword, one vertically and diagonally to his left, the other horizontally along the ground. "Kūkan no sakeme Irikuchi! Mugen keimusho!" Kurotsuchi suddenly found himself falling. His mind tried to analyse it. Looking down, he could see the ground getting closer and then suddenly he'd be several metres above it and begin to fall. He steadied himself in the air, and looked around as he heard a wailing. Konjiki Ashisogijiso was also falling, and with no way of steadying itself its speed was increasing. He glared back at Zōkin.  
"What did you do you bastard?" He shrieked and charged. Just before he reached him he found himself looking towards the ground and falling again. His mind a blur, he tried to rationalise a plan.  
"It is no use." Zōkin told him. "You are surrounded by entrances on all sides, including above and below. The exit is within that box, just above you. No matter where you go, you cannot escape the infinite prison." Rotating the blade point-down, he embedded it in the ground. Raising his hand from the grip, he turned it as if he was holding an invisible box in his hand. The pendant on the bottom of the sword rose on its chain until it was floating in front of his hand, and glowed with an inner darkness. "You are a scientist. What happens if I shrink the box?" Kurotsuchi's eyes went wide.  
"You bastard..." He snarled. Zōkin's hand closed. With a pop of inrushing air, Kurotsuchi and Konjiki Ashisogijiso vanished. Zōkin stared into the pendant, the galaxy within spinning on. The speck that was the prison, within which Kurotsuchi had been completely crushed, drifted in and joined the spiral as one more tiny star. He fell to his knees, coughing blood. The poison was spreading through him fast.  
"Kamimono!" Zōkin looked up through bleary eyes to see Chōjirō standing over him. "I defeated the lieutenants, what about you? Where is Kurotsuchi? Did you defeat him?" He sighed in relief when he saw Zōkin's barely perceptible nod. "Rest. It is no surprise you were injured when fighting such an opponent. Squad 4 should be here soon." Zōkin smiled.  
"Why is it," he said, "that ever since I got back from hell I've managed to get myself into these situations? I guess I really am unlucky."


End file.
